


50 Miles an Hour

by asexualjuliet



Series: The Words I Most Regret (are the ones I never meant to leave) [5]
Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: Bill and Ted fucking slaps, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Implied/Referenced Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Panic Attacks, Implied/Referenced Suicide, The answer? surprisingly only two so far but, “How many fics is she gonna mention Bill & Ted in?” you may ask
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:02:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28493568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asexualjuliet/pseuds/asexualjuliet
Summary: The most important reason Logan rentsSpeedfrom the Blockbuster on the corner of Putnam and Garrison? It’s because he’s a dumbass.Or, I just watched Speed (1994), and that’s a Dick Casablancas fic just waiting to happen, right?
Relationships: Dick Casablancas & Logan Echolls
Series: The Words I Most Regret (are the ones I never meant to leave) [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1982077
Comments: 10
Kudos: 10





	50 Miles an Hour

**Author's Note:**

> Can’t stop writing fics about these dumbass boys! Dick is a piece of garbage but Season 3 did him so dirty and I’m still mad about it!!
> 
>  _Speed_ fucking slapped almost as hard as Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure but as soon as my mom was like “oh it’s about a bomb on a bus” my shit brain went “oh, Cassidy Casablancas?” because i’m garbage.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Logan Echolls has never been known for his tendency to think ahead. 

This is not a revolutionary statement, nor a particularly offensive one. Logan’s a rich, white college kid from Neptune, California. Honestly, he'd be surprised if he _was_ good at thinking ahead. 

But he’s not. 

Which is why, when the weekend’s Pi Sig rager is cancelled due to Hearst’s serial rapist problem and Dick suggests going out and getting shitfaced, Logan proposes a compromise: staying in and watching a movie (preferably without getting hammered, because Dick’s been spending most of his days drunk, but he’s going through shit, and Logan doesn’t want to get in the middle of his unresolved trauma).

The idea of the movie itself is not problematic. It’s a good idea, if Logan does say so himself, and he finds himself at the nearest Blockbuster that evening, perusing the merchandise. 

Here’s where the problem comes in: Dick’s favorite movie is _Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure._

(And normally, Logan would argue that Bill and Ted could never be a problem, because that movie fucking rips. This time, however, Logan is willing to lay at least some of the blame on Ted “Theodore” Logan and Bill S. Preston, Esquire. Because the movie’s not on the fucking shelf).

The movie’s not on the shelf, and as of now, that doesn’t seem like a huge problem. 

(It will be soon enough).

Logan scans the shelf again, willing to accept _Bill and Ted’s Bogus Journey_ as a consolation prize, because Dick will probably be too wasted to care about the noticeable decrease in quality from the original to the sequel, but it’s not there either. 

Logan shrugs, walks down the aisle, and grabs the next Keanu Reeves movie he sees, because Keanu’s a fucking badass. 

(And because Sandra Bullock’s on the cover. And she’s incredibly attractive, and he figures Dick won’t mind that).

But the most important reason Logan rents _Speed_ from the Blockbuster on the corner of Putnam and Garrison? It’s because he’s a dumbass.

In his defense, he’s never seen the movie. Bill and Ted are unavailable and Keanu’s a badass and Sandra’s hot, so Logan doesn’t bother reading the back of the DVD case before renting the movie and bringing it home.

He and Dick order room service and start the movie, and it’s pretty badass for like, the first fifteen minutes. 

And then a bus explodes. 

And Dick fucking flinches like he’s been hit. 

_“Pop quiz, hotshot. There's a bomb on a bus. Once the bus goes 50 miles an hour, the bomb is armed. If it drops below 50, it blows up. What do you do? What do you do?”_

Oh. 

Well, shit. 

Logan glances at Dick. Tight shoulders, tense jaw. If Logan knows Dick, though, he’s gonna pretend he’s fine until he can’t anymore. So either Logan asks Dick if he’s okay and subsequently gets yelled at, or Dick spends the whole movie with his eyes glazed over and his fingernails digging into his arms. 

Both options are shit. 

Things are fine-but-not-really for another fifteen minutes, and then some dumbass lady on the bus goes and gets herself killed. 

“They forgot to bring us mozzarella sticks,” Dick says suddenly. 

Logan pauses the movie. “We didn’t ask for mozzarella sticks.”

“Well, I want some fucking mozzarella sticks,” says Dick, grabbing the phone and heading for the balcony. “I’m calling room service; you don’t have to stop the movie for me.”

It’s an incredibly transparent excuse to get the fuck out of there, but Logan’s not gonna blame Dick. 

He watches from the couch as Dick makes his way outside, ignoring the way his heart rate speeds up when Dick walks out of sight. 

(And yeah, Logan knows Dick wouldn’t… y’know…)

(It’s just—)

(A Casablancas brother, looking down at the parking lot of the Neptune Grand from at least 20 stories up…)

(Which one of them is he describing?)

(Yeah, Dick wouldn’t… y’know…)

(But they’d thought the same thing about Cassidy, right?)

Logan sighs; gets up from the couch and walks out onto the balcony. 

Dick’s still there, thank fuck, leaning his back against the balcony railing, hugging his knees to his chest. He’s shaking, eyes squeezed shut and face buried in his knees. 

“Dick,” Logan starts, but can’t find it in himself to follow it up with anything. 

“Fuck off,” Dick says, voice choked by tears. 

“I’m sorry,” Logan tells him, sitting down on the balcony floor as well. “I didn’t—I didn’t read the back of the movie, I didn’t—”

“It’s _fine,”_ Dick says, looking up at Logan with red-rimmed eyes. “It’s fucking _fine,_ okay? I’m just being a pussy.”

“Dick…”

“If he hadn’t fucking killed himself, I’d kick his ass,” Dick says, more angry tears falling down his face. “Putting a bomb on a fucking schoolbus? Running over a guy with your car? Blowing up a fucking _plane?_ Who _does_ that?”

“He was…” Logan starts. He doesn’t quite know how to finish the statement. 

“A fucking _psychopath,”_ Dick finishes for him. “He was fucking _insane!”_

“He was traumatized,” Logan says quietly. 

“Yeah, and no one gave a shit,” Dick responds. 

“You couldn’t have—”

“I could’ve!” Dick yells. “I could’ve known! I should’ve fucking _known!”_

Logan opens his mouth to say something, but Dick cuts him off. 

“You didn’t know him before,” he says, big blue eyes brimming with tears. “He was—he was _normal,_ he was a normal fucking kid! And then all of a sudden, he _wasn’t,_ and none of us gave a shit!”

Logan bites his cheek. He knows he should say something, but he’s got no damn clue what it would be. 

“Mom up and fucking _left,_ Dad didn’t give a shit about him, I made fun of him all the fucking time, and none of us fucking _cared_ enough about him to worry when he got all quiet and hid under his bed to cry and came home from little league twenty fucking minutes late every week!”

“It’s not your fault,” Logan says softly. “Shit, Dick, you were just a kid.”

Dick shrugs. 

Silence falls over them. 

“I wouldn’t have told anyone either, if I was him,” Dick says after a while. “I don’t even know if Dad would’ve cared. Probably would’ve just called him a f*g or some shit. Said he was asking for it.”

Logan wants to disagree, but he can’t formulate an argument. Dick might be exaggerating a little, but he’s right. His dad didn’t give a shit about Cassidy, and he taught Dick not to, either. 

“I’m sorry,” Logan finally says. 

“‘S not your fault,” Dick says, wiping his eyes with his sweatshirt sleeve. 

“I was gonna get Bill and Ted,” Logan says. “From the video store. But someone had already taken it out.”

“So you just grabbed the next Keanu Reeves movie you saw?”

Logan shrugs; gives a slight smile. “Sandra Bullock looked hot on the cover. Thought you’d appreciate her.”

Dick cracks a smile. 

“Can we just order a shit-ton of mozzarella sticks and watch the Food Network or some shit?” he asks. 

Logan laughs. “Hell yeah,” he says, and grabs the phone Dick had discarded on the floor. 

“Hi,” he says after dialing the number, “We’d like to order—”

Logan covers the speaker. “How much qualifies as a shit-ton?” he asks. 

Dick shrugs. “Eighty,” he says, fighting a smile. 

“—Four orders of mozzarella sticks, please.”

Dick flips him the bird. Logan does it right back. 

And things are probably as okay as they’re gonna get. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!!
> 
> All mistakes are my own, please don’t hesitate to point them out!
> 
> Kudos/Comments are much appreciated!!


End file.
